BX 
725 
.L4 
A3 


tMt' 


PBESENTED  TO  THE  LIBRABY 


PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINJIRY 

BY 

Professor  }ienpy  Van  Dyke,  D.D.,  Lili.D. 

BX  7260    .L4  A3  1887 


i 


Rev.   Louis  P.   Ledoux,  D.D 


mimtmmttmtttimmtititmtm-i] 


4 


Rev.  Louis  P.  Ledoux,  D.  D. 


To  7ny  dear  little  grandson, 

Louis  V.  Ledoux: 

It  is  now  over  two  years  since  the  grandfather,  after  whom 
you  are  named,  and  who  loved  you  so,  was  called  from 
among  the  hills  of  Cornwall  unto  the  hills  of  God. 

You  were  a  little  boy  of  five  then,  and  although  you 
remember  his  face,  and  something  of  his  affection  for  you, 
in  future  years,  if  God  spares  your  life,  even  this  memory 
must  fade.  It  has  occurred  to  me  to  bind  together  for  you 
these  few  letters  and  papers  which  will  then  serve  to  answer 
the  question — who  was  my  grandfather? 

Your  lovintj  grandmother, 

Katharine  R.  Ledoux. 

New  York,  December  31,  1887. 


3 


LOUIS  P.  LEDOUX 


was  born  near  Opelousas,  Louisiana,  June  8,  1822. 

His  parents  were  Eugene  and  Celesie  Pietre  Ledoux. 
His  father  and  grandfather  were  successful  planters  in  the 
parish  of  St.  Landry,  with  large  sugar  and  cotton  estates 
among  the  fertile  prairies  of  the  Vermilion  River.  The  latter 
came  from  France,  Department  of  Basses  Pyrenees,  early 
in  the  last  century.  Accompanied  by  two  brothers  he  first 
settled  in  Canada,  where  they  remained,  but  here  moved 
to  the  more  congenial  soil  and  climate  of  Louisiana. 

Louis  Ledoux  was  one  of  the  younger  children,  and 
pre-eminently  a  "mother's  boy."  He  was  rarely  away  from 
home,  his  early  education  being  received  from  private  tutors 
in  company  with  his  brothers  and  sisters.  His  boyhood  was 
a  happy  one,  with  few  wishes  ungratified  that  wealth  and 
affection  could  fulfil.  Horses,  guns  and  servants  were  at 
his  command,  and  he  had  a  large  circle  of  young  friends 
from  neighboring  plantations.  Under  the  influence  of  a 
gentle  mother  he  developed  a  sympathetic,  religious  nature, 
faithful  to  the  duties  of  the  French  Catholic  Church,  to 
which  all  his  relatives  belonged.  His  elder  brothers,  leaving 
school  one  after  another,  married  and  settled  on  plantations 
of  their  own,  but  Louis'  inclination  was  for  a  more  studious 
life.  An  uncle,  on  his  mother's  side,  was  eminent  at  the 
bar  of  New  Orleans;  subsequently  a  judge.  Influenced  by 
his  advice,  as  well  as  by  his  own  inclination,  his  parents 
decided  to  give  him  a  collegiate  education,  and  fit  him  for  the 
legal  profession. 


5 


It  was  then  the  custom  among-  Southern  families  of 
means  to  send  their  sons  to  Xorthern  colleges,  and  so, 
on  the  30th  of  May.  1840,  Louis  Ledoux  left  his  Southern 
home  to  complete  his  preparator)^  studies  at  Lawrence 
Academy,  Groton.  Massachusetts,  then  in  the  zenith  of  its 
fame. 

For  a  young  man  with  his  early  training  and  surroundings 
to  be  suddenly  transplanted  from  the  sunny  prairies  of 
semi-tropical  Louisiana,  amid  the  rigors  of  New  England 
life  and  climate,  must  have  been  indeed  a  chancre.  Looking 
back  upon  this  period  of  his  life,  he  wrote  in  i860  : — 

"  The  small,  stony,  side-hill  farms  ;  the  rock  walls  ;  the  poor  stunted 
com  ;  but  above  all,  the  customs  of  the  people,  impressed  me  as  ver\'  strange. 
Sunday  of  all  days  was  to  me  most  sad  and  uninteresting.  From  their 
manner  of  Sabbath  observance,  as  well  as  their  doctrines,  as  I  then  under- 
stood or  rather  w/junderstood,  them,  I  entirely  dissented.  Their  Puritan 
standards  I  rejected  ah  immo  pectore.  I  was  brought  up  in  a  community 
whose  members  regarded  Sunday  as  a  fete — a  day  for  visiting  and  amusements. 
Imagine  my  horror  at  the  return  of  each  Sabbath  day  in  Groton  !  All 
amusements  were  suspended,  all  social  visits  interdicted.  No  vehicles 
tolerated  on  the  streets,  except  to  or  from  meeting ;  the  front  blinds  were 
all  closed.  Even  the  dinner  bell  in  my  hotel  was  not  nmg  on  Sunday,  and 
conversation  was  carried  on  in  a  suppressed  tone.  .\t  nine,  the  church  bells 
began  ringing.  .\t  ten,  church  commenced,  followed  immediately  b\'  Sunday 
school  ;  then  a  cold  lunch,  and  senice  again  at  half-past  two.  I  spent  the 
time  in  being  homesick  and  writing  letters.  Once  I  went  out  in  the  fore- 
noon for  a  walk,  but  the  looks  of  surprise  and  pain  that  met  me  from  the 
windows  of  the  good  people,  led  me  not  to  repeat  the  experiment,  and  I 
determined  at  least  to  respect  their  prejudices." 

He  remained  at  I^wrence  Academy  until  entering  col- 
lege, and  it  was  there,  under  the  influence  of  its  respected 
and  much-loved  principal.  Rev.  L.  H.  Barstow.  as  well  as  of 
one  of  the  teachers,  that  he  took  a  step  that  changed  radically 


6 


the  whole  current  of  his  life.  After  a  period  of  most  searching 
self-examination,  he  united  with  the  Protestant  (Congrega- 
tional) Church,  and  announced  to  his  relatives  that  instead 
of  becoming  a  lawyer,  he  felt  called  to  become  a  minister  of 
the  Gospel.  Nothing  could  have  astonished  or  disappointed 
them  more.  He  could  not  be  dissuaded,  but  firmly  adhered 
to  his  resolution.  He  felt  that  God  had  called  him.  His 
brothers'  disappointment ;  his  uncle's  expostulations,  and  even 
his  gentle  mother's  tears  failed  to  turn  him,  and  he  went  on 
with  his  concluding  studies  at  Groton — his  future  life's  work 
clearly  defined.  He  gave  up  a  career  which,  with  his 
family's  position  and  uncle's  help,  offered  wealth  and  station 
in  his  native  State,  to  prepare  for  the  more  humble,  and  often 
ill-paid  toil  of  a  Presbyterian  minister.  What  the  step  cost 
him,  only  his  nearest  and  dearest  can  ever  know. 

His  father  died;  then  followed  the  death  of  his  mother, 
and  with  it  the  sudden  cessation  of  financial  aid  from  home. 
Undeterred,  he  entered  Amherst  College  in  the  fall  of  1844, 
supporting  himself  by  teaching,  and  as  tutor  of  French  in 
college. 

Graduating  in  1848,  he  entered  the  Union  Theological 
Seminary  of  New  York  city,  whence  he  graduated  in  185  i. 

In  the  summer  of  185  i  he  was  married  to  Katharine  C. 
Reid,  the  youngest  daughter  of  Edward  Reid  of  New  York, 
by  whom  he  had  two  sons,  Albert  R.  and  Augustus  D.,  born 
in  1852  and  1858  respectively. 

After  graduation,  he  at  once  commenced  preaching, 
supplying  the  pulpit  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  at  Dobbs' 
Ferry.  Although  pleasantly  situated  here,  his  desire  was  to 
do  missionar)'  work,  and  declining  a  call  to  the  permanent 
pastorate,  he  -went  to  Newport,  Kentuck)-,  to  upbuild  a  little 


7 


church  but  recently  estabHshed.  Placing  this  church  on  a 
firm,  self-supporting  foundation,  he  accepted  a  call  to  Mon- 
roe, Michigan,  where  for  nearly  three  years  he  acted  as 
pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church.  There,  on  the 
lake  shore,  his  wife  and  son,  born  in  Newport,  were  attacked 
with  chills  and  fever.  Being  advised  that  nothing  but  a 
decided  chancre  of  climate  would  eradicate  this  disease,  he 
accepted  a  call  to  the  Third  Presbyterian  Church  of  Richmond. 
\  a.,  where  he  remained  until  1858.  Then,  called  to  the 
pastorate  of  the  church  at  Cornwall-on-the-Hudson,  New 
York,  he  accepted,  and  it  was  here  that  his  best  and  hardest 
life-work  was  done.  Beside  his  pastoral  work,  at  this  period 
of  his  life  he  was  also  busy  with  his  pen.  but  usually  in  an 
unobtrusive,  anonymous  way.  publishing  a  number  of  ser- 
mons, tracts,  lectures  and  newspaper  articles.  A  more  elab- 
orate treatise  on  "The  Hypocrisy  of  Infidelity,"  in  1861. 
gained  for  him  the  honorar)"  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
from  the  Indiana  State  University,  whose  Faculty  saw  and 
appreciated  this  review. 

In  1865.  after  a  pastorate  in  Cornwall  of  eight  )ears. 
repeated  attacks  of  a  bronchial  affection,  with  resulting  loss 
of  voice,  compelled  him  to  resign  his  charge  and  again  to 
take  up  teaching,  for  which  by  education  and  experience  he 
was  well  fitted. 

In  this  occupation,  without  interruption,  he  continued 
until  his  last  illness — a  complication  of  heart-failure,  with  his 
old  bronchial  affection.  He  founded  and  maintained  a 
successful  collegiate  school  upon  Cornwall  Heights. 

Durine  his  residence  at  Cornwall,  the  cruel  wave  of  civil 
war  swept  over  our  countr)'.  and  not  even  indirectly  could 
he  hear  from  his  relatives  in  Louisiana.    When  peace  was 


8 


restored,  he  journeyed  South  to  see  them.  He  found  money ; 
ser\'ants;  lands  had  been  swept  away  by  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
conflict.  His  coming^  had  been  unannounced.  One  moon- 
light  night  he  rapped  at  the  door  of  his  childhood's  home. 
A  window  opens  above,  and  a  brother's  voice  asks  in  French: 
"Who  is  there?"  Replying  in  the  same  familiar  tongue,  he 
asks  if  a  stranger  ma)-  have  a  night's  lodging.  The  window 
closes,  a  step  descends  the  stair,  the  front  door  opens,  and 
before  him  stands  the  brother  with  outstretched  arms  and 
says,  "Come  in,  my  brother,  this  is  the  old  home."  With 
tears  of  joy  and  sorrow,  childhood's  days  are  gone  over,  the 
old  affection  renewed,  and  the  story  of  all  the  long  years  of 
separation  is  told;  then,  with  a  great  life's  wish  gratified, 
Louis  Ledoux  returned  to  his  work,  from  which  on  Septem- 
ber 30th,  1885,  the  Great  Schoolmaster  released  him.  What 
was  the  character  and  what  the  results  of  this  work,  let 
others  tell  in  the  following  pages. 

His  funeral  services  were  held  on  October  3d  in  the 
church  at  Cornwall,  in  which  he  had  preached  for  so  long, 
amid  a  large  congregation  of  his  former  parishioners  and 
pupils.  The  building  was  appropriately  draped,  and  the 
services  were  conducted  by  the  present  pastor.  Rev.  Mr. 
Noble,  assisted  by  Rev.  Drs.  Lyman  Abbot,  Snowdon  and 
J.  W.  Teal,  the  latter,  perhaps.  Dr.  Ledoux's  nearest  friend  in 
the  ministry  during  the  later  years  of  his  life.  He  was 
buried  at  Woodlawn  Cemetery,  near  New  Windsor,  sur- 
rounded by  the  hills  he  loved  so  well. 


9 


Student. 


Amherst  College,  July  3d,  1S48. 
"  Mr.  Louis  P.  Ledoux  has  just  completed  his  four  year's  course  of  study 
in  this  institution.  For  two  years  he  was  employed  to  teach  French  (his 
vernacular)  even  to  his  own  class.*  We  are  glad  to  testify  to  his  gentlemanly 
and  amiable  deportment,  his  irreproachable  character,  both  moral  and 
religious,  as  well  as  his  talents  and  attainments." 

Edw.ard  Hitchcock, 

President. 

E.  S.  Snell, 

Prof.  Math,  and  Nat.  Phil. 

W.  S.  Tvler, 

Prof,  of  Languages. 


"  .A  college-life  acquaintance  of  four  years  with  Mr.  Louis  P.  Ledoux, 
enables  us,  his  classmates,  to  bear  testimony  to  his  many  high  attainments. 
^\'e  recall  with  pleasure  his  excellent  scholarship,  his  courteous  and  refined 
ni-inners.  his  unaffected  geniality,  and  true  goodness  of  heart." 

^V^L  C.  Dickinson, 
W.  S.  Smhh, 
S.  F.  Miller. 


Li:rri:RS  from  classmates. 


October  6th.  1885. 

"  Your  letter  telling  me  of  the  death  of  my  dear  classmate,  Louis  P. 
Ledoux,  I  find  on  returning  home,  and  I  have  spent  this  evening  with  him  ! 
I  can  bear  testimony  how  worthy  he  was  of  the  best  love,  as  well  as  the 
fondest  regard  of  his  dearest  friends. 

Especially  during  the  last  year  of  our  college  life,  and  the  one  year 
we  were  together  at  the  seminary  at  New  York,  was  I  drawn  \  ery  close  to 

*llis  command  of  French  was  great,  and  his  accent  remarkahly  pure.  When  in 
I'aris  he  preached  in  some  of  the  French  churches,  an<l  his  hearers  expressed  surprise  on 
learning  he  was  n^t  a  native-born  Frenchman. 

12 


him.  I  assure  you  the  death  of  no  member  of  our  college  society,  nor  oi 
our  class,  will  be  more  deeply  felt  than  his.  While  to  those  of  us  who 
were  admitted  to  his  inner  circle  of  friends,  there  comes  a  sense  of  personal 
loss  and  deep  affliction.  As  he  was  the  noble  spirit  around  which  we  were 
privileged  to  group  ourselves  here,  so,  being  the  first  to  pass  on,  may  we 
not  hope  that  he  still  shall  be  our  leader,  and  that  we  may  again  be  together 
with  him  in  the  spirit  world?    '  And  joyful  shall  our  meeting  be.' 

He  illustrated  so  beautifully  by  his  life  the  Christ  he  professed  and  so 
dearly  loved,  we  all  can  but  rejoice  that  he  is  in  His  more  immediate 
companionship  now,  and  will  enjoy  Him  forever."       *       *       «  * 


".•\s  a  college  student,  your  father  was  a  rare  approach  to  the  ideal 
man.  Southern  birth  and  Northern  training  came  to  their  best  in  him, 
uniting  the  courtly  grace  of  the  one  section,  with  the  noblest  sentiments 
and  aspirations  of  the  other.  With  affinities  and  aptitudes  all  upward,  he 
was  faithful  and  fearless  in  the  rebuke  of  the  low  and  unworthy.  Yet, 
withal,  a  sparkling  playfulness  and  humor  made  him  ever  the  most  delight- 
ful of  companions.  Thus  his  fellowship  was  always  ennobling  and  attractive. 
In  class,  literary,  religious  and  social  circles,  he  was  a  favorite  represen- 
tative man. 

Few,  if  any,  were  the  names  that  could  be  written  abo\'e  that  of  Louis 
P.  Ledoux  in  the  sum  total  of  character,  influence  and  college  success." 

October  9th,  1885. 

"  My  eye  has  just  fallen  upon  the  paragraph  in  this  week's  Observer, 
announcing  that  my  dear  old  classmate,  Ledoux,  has  gone,  and  I  shall  see 
him  no  more  in  this  world — you  cannot  tell  what  a  pang  it  brought  to  mv 
heart.  Though  I  have  seen  him  so  little  in  these  past  years,  yet  I  love  him 
so  much  that  I  feel  his  loss  deeply.  It  was  something  to  know  that  he  was 
in  the  world,  and  that  I  might  go  to  him,  and  that  again  we  might  meet  at 
old  Amherst,  but  now  that  I  shall  see  his  face  no  more,  it  fills  me  with 
sorrow.  I  cannot  tell  one  who  knew  him  so  well  how  good  a  man  he  was, 
but  I  can  assure  you  that  no  man  of  our  class  claimed  so  much  respect  and 
affection  from  his  classmates  as  did  he. 

He  was  a  dear,  good  man  with  a  large  heart,  whose  companionship  I 
shall  never  forget,  and  ere  long  I  hope  to  follow  on."        *       *  » 


13 


October  nth,  1885. 

"  The  Observer  brings  to  us  this  week  the  announcement  of  your  great 
affliction.  ********** 

I  count  it  one  of  the  great  blessings  and  joys  of  my  Hfe  that  I  was 
favored  with  such  a  pleasant,  goodly  and  profitable  fellowship.  That  grand 
and  benign  presence,  that  easy  and  courtly  bearing,  the  richness,  sweetness 
and  the  delightful  manliness  of  his  companionship,  the  depth  and  consistency 
of  his  Christian  character,  all  conspired  to  make  one  proud,  happy  and 
blessed  in  his  friendship.  O  what  a  bright  and  glorious  vision  is  that  of 
Louis  Ledoux  of  our  college  days  !  '  Lovely  and  pleasant'  was  he  in  his 
life.  But  he  has  suddenly  vanished  from  the  earth  in  the  midst  of  his  use- 
fulness, while  many,  with  long-blighted  lives,  still  wear  on  !"    *       *  * 


Pastor. 


CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON,  Nov.  23d,  1887. 

"  You  ask  me  '  for  a  few  honest  words '  telling  something  of  the  work 
of  Dr.  Ledoux  as  pastor  and  preacher.  The  letters  which  you  recently 
showed  me  could  not  say  more  of  his  success  in  Richmond  and  Monroe, 
but  I  can  speak  of  his  work  in  Cornwall,  and  of  that  only  from  personal 
knowledge. 

His  presence  in  the  pulpit  was  so  commanding,  and  his  manner  so 
earnest,  that  in  any  gathering  he  would  secure  instant  attention  when  he 
rose  to  speak.  His  voice  was  flexible  and  well-modulated,  and  his  gestures 
natural  and  forceful.  In  the  pulpit  his  prayers,  especially,  always  struck  me 
as  full  of  feeling.  I  have  heard  others  say  the  same,  and  that  he  impressed 
them  as  having,  in  praying,  the  same  faith  that  his  whole  life  exhibited  in 
action.  His  sermons  always  gave  evidence  of  careful  preparation,  and 
abounded  in  apt  illustration  and  appropriate  quotation.  But  they  were 
dignified  and  Godly.  There  was  always  a  total  absence  of  anything  either 
sensational  or  amusing.  In  theology,  he  was  evidently  a  firm  believer  in 
the  standards  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  his  New  England  training  showing 
itself  in  his  dealing  with  doctrinal  questions,  as  well  as  those  social  questions 
ever  recurring  in  the  church — amusements,  cards,  dancing,  intemperance, 
Sabbath  observance,  etc.,  etc.  During  his  pastorate  the  membership  of  our 
church  was  more  than  trebled,  and  we  raised,  as  the  records  show,  over 
$10,000  for  religious  purposes. 

But,  I  venture  to  assert,  that  not  so  much  as  a  pieacher,  but  as  a  pastor 
and  friend  will  the  Doctor  be  remembered  in  Cornwall.  He  was  always  so 
full  of  love  and  sympathy  and  charity  and  self-denial,  and  so  faithful  to  his 
flock,  that  his  friendship  was  valued  and  his  example  respected  by  high  and 
low,  rich  and  poor. 

I  have  paused  here  and  read  over  what  I  have  thus  far  written.  It 
seems  to  me,  who  loved  him  so,  so  cold  and  inadequate  that  I  know  not  what 
to  do.  Only  God  can  sum  up  his  work  among  us,  and  He  alone  can 
reward  him  for  his  patient,  earnest,  gentle  life  and  labors.  We  could  not 
adequately  reward  him,  but  yonder  his  face  shall  shine  with  the  glory  of 
those  who  turn  many  to  righteousness,  and  he  is  now  among  the  saints  who' 
through  patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  have  inherited  the  promises." 


17 


RESOLUTIONS  OF  SESSION. 


"At  a  meeting  of  the  Session  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  Cornwall-on- 
Hudson,  held  Thursday  evening,  September  30th,  1885,  announcement  was 
made  of  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Louis  P.  Ledoux,  the  first  pastor  of  the 
church,  and  the  following  action  taken  : 

Whereas,  It  has  pleased  the  (ireat  Head  of  the  Church  to  call  from 
his  place  among  us  our  beloved  friend,  counsellor  and  former  pastor,  Rev. 
Louis  P.  Ledoux,  D.  D. 

Resolved,  That  while  we  mourn  our  loss,  as  that  of  a  faithful  and  lov- 
ing friend  and  fellow-worker  for  Christ,  whose  place  may  not  be  filled  by 
any  other,  we  must  return  our  thanks  to  God  for  the  precious  heritage  that 
is  ours  in  his  godly  example,  consecrated  life,  earnest  and  effectual 
Christian  work,  and  frequent  and  faithful  counsels,  for  nearly  thirty  years; 
tliat  we  rejoice  in  the  manifestation  of  the  power  and  worth  of  the  faith  he 
cherished  and  taught,  as  shown  in  the  life  he  has  lived,  and  the  respect  and 
esteem  so  fully  accorded  him  by  all  ;  that  we  extend  to  his  family  the  assur- 
ance of  our  warmest  sympathy  and  our  prayer  that  they  may  know  the  full- 
ness of  the  consolation  of  the  Holy  Ohost,  which  he  has  so  often  ministered 
to  the  people  we  represent ;  many  of  whom  are  his  children  in  the  (iospel 
of  Christ  ;  and  all  of  whom  sorrow  with  them  in  the  loss  of  him  we  have 
dearly  loved. 

Resolved,  That  these  resolutions  be  spread  upon  tiie  minutes  of 
Session  ;  be  i)ublished  in  the  local  and  religious  press  ;  and  a  copy  be  sent 
to  the  family  of  .the  deceased.  .And  that  special  memorial  services  be  held 
in  the  church.  Sabbath  evening,  October  11,  1885." 


18 


Teacher. 


THE  COMPETENT  TEACHER.* 


"He  cannot  be  fully  described.  He  should  love  his  work  and  his  pupils. 
His  is  a  forcible  character.  In  habits  he  is  diligent  and  persevering ;  in 
judgment,  well-balanced  and  prompt ;  in  discipline,  free  from  tyranny ; 
in  mind,  symmetrical,  conscious  of  supremacy  an'd  yet  susceptible  of  devel- 
opment. He  early  analyzes  the  fidgetty  set  before  him,  and  in  his  own 
mind  separates  them  into  distinct  classes.  He  does  not  go  into  ecstacy 
over  his  success  nor  despair  over  his  nlistakes.  Each  day  he  tries 
to  be  a  better  teacher  than  he  was  the  day  previous,  knowing  that,  '  teaching 
we  learn.'  " 


EXTRACTS  FROM  SCHOLARS'  LETTERS. 


"  It  was  indeed  a  great  shock  to  me  when  I  reqeived  the  paper  from 
my  father,  containing  the  notice  of  the  passing  away  of  the  well-beloved 
master  of  so  many  years  ago.  You  know  how  all  of  the  'old  boys,'  whose 
foundations  in  life  were  laid  by  his  hand  and  shaped  by  his  example,  can 
sympathize  with  you  in  your  great  loss  and  affliction.  This  bereavement 
takes  me  back  over  nineteen  years,  to  the  time  when,  as  a  home-sick  boy 
of  less  than  thirteen  years  of  age,  the  Doctor's  kindly  manner  and  gentle 
presence  served  to  re-assure  the  trembling  new  boy,  and  make  him  feel 
that  he  had  found,  in  the  somewhat  dreaded  school-master,  a  new  father 
and  guide  in  the  paths  of  duty. 

Many  times  have  I  felt  indebted  to  the  Doctor  for  the  ideas  gathered 
from  him,  and  it  is  my  belief  that  to  him  and  yourself  belong  the  credit 
of  developing  whatever  force  of  character  I  possess,  as  I  consider  the  age 
at  which  I  was  under  the  Doctor's  charge  about  as  impressionable  as  any 
during  the  whole  span  of  life." 

*Found  in  Dr.  Ledoux's  school-room  desk. 


21 


We  all  had  a  sincere  love  for  the  Doctor.  As  for  myself,  I  shall 
always  cherish  his  memory,  and  think  with  gratitude  of  all  his  kindness ; 
nor  shall  I  forget  his  noble  traits  of  Christian  character  and  example  of 
Christian  living  of  so  much  value  to  the  boys  under  his  care . 

I  have  a  personal  interest,  such  as  one  might  feel  for  a  near  relative, 
in  thinking  of  the  Doctor.  He  was  all  that  a  father  could  have  been  to  the 
boys  under  his  charge. 

I  shall  not  forget  all  his  kind  interest  in  me,  nor  can  I  forget  that  it 
was  through  his  influence  that  I  took  a  step  which  otherwise  might  never 
have  been  taken." 


"  Dr.  Ledoux  was  always  more  to  me  than  a  teacher — he  seemed  more 
like  a  father,  and  I  never  can  forget  his  kind  counsels  and  watchful  care 
over  me  during  the  three  years  I  spent  with  him  on  Cornwall  Heights. 
Those  years  will  never  be  forgotten,  and  I  rejoice  to  say  that  the  advice 
and  counsel  I  received  during  them,  made  that  period  a  turning  point  in 
my  Hfe. 

I  could  never  say  enough  of  all  that  has  come  to  me  while  I  was  under 
Doctor's  care,  and  hope  only  that  the  future  may  prove  me  worthy  of  it  all. 

Doctor,  it  seemed,  was  too  good  a  man  to  be  taken  away.  We,  all 
of  us,  yes,  the  whole  world  itself,  needed  him,  for  he  was  a  shining  example 
of  a  whole-souled,  true  Christian  gentleman.  My  love  for  him  goes  on  in- 
creasing daily,  for  I  feel  that,  though  I  have  not  lived  up,  as  I  should  have 
done,  to  the  excellent  precepts  he  taught  me,  still  I  am  a  better  man  for 
having  been  under  his  pious  care  and  guidance.  I  realize  how  poorly  I 
express  myself." 


"  If  it  is  of  any  comfort  to  you,  I  know  that  there  are  many  friends 
like  myself,  who  will  always  remember  the  Doctor  as  a  father,  and  who  will 
guard  his  memory  as  that  of  one  who  taught  them  of  a  higher  life.  I  shall 
never  forget  that  it  was  mainly  due  to  the  'Doctor's'  influence  that  I  first 
thought  to  connect  myself  with  the  church." 


22 


LE'ITERS  FROM  ASSISTANT  TEACHERS. 


"  I  went  first  to  Cornwall,  just  escaped  from  boyhood  and  colleges,  in 
the  Fall  of  1869.    1  was  under-teacher  in  the  school  on  'The  Heights.' 

Dr.  Ledoux's  tall,  erect  and  manly  figure  is  vivid  in  my  mind  now, 
and  no  man  ever  had  a  kindlier  face.  He  Icved  animals.  He  loved  trees. 
He  loved  boys,  and  it  was  the  great  comfort  of  his  life  that  his  work  might 
still  go  on  among  the  si)lendid  fellows  that  came  to  him,  after  he  was 
obliged  to  leave  the  ministry.  His  spirit  drank  in  both  strength  and  repose 
from  the  striking  and  beautiful  scenery  around  him. 

I  remember  vividly  now  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  eighteen  years, 
his  relations  with  the  boys ;  how  kind  and  genial,  how  ready  in  sympathy, 
how  thorough  and  exact  in  his  instructions ;  how  earnest  for  their  moral 
and  religious  welfare.  He  was  always  devising  healthful  means  of  recrea- 
tion. The  boat-rides,  the  bee-hunts,  the  rabbit-trapping,  the  excursions 
into  the  mountains,  the  candy-pulls,  were  some  of  the  means  continually 
employed  by  him  to  keep  the  recreation  hours  of  the  boys  joyously  and 
healthfully  employed. 

His  heart  followed  them  after  they  had  left  his  home  and  his  instruction. 
It  was  a  ceaseless  joy  to  him  that  many  became  active  and  leading  Christian 
young  men.  To  this  very  end  were  his  energies  directed,  to  make  of  the 
young  men  around  him  devout  and  strong  men.  The  tenderness  in  family 
worship,  the  love  in  the  home  with  which  the  boys  were  surrounded  by  both 
the  doctor  and  his  wife,  have  made  strong  the  heart  of  many  in  years 
afterwards. 

His  teaching  was  delicate,  discriminating,  painstaking,  inspiring. 
Rut  that  was  characteristic  of  all  his  work  ;  it  bore  the  mark  of  his  con- 
science and  his  culture. 

The  distinctive  mark  of  the  Great  Teacher  was  on  his  heart.  That  mark 
was  love.  That  was  what  made  him  a  teacher  sought  for  and  chosen  from 
many  for  the  care  of  boys. 

Many  men  can  preach,  but  few  can  teach.  Love  taught  him  a 
thousand  virtues.  It  guided  his  mind  in  subtle  and  sympathetic  contact 
with  the  timid  but  inquiring  youth.  The  heart  guided  his  course  in  the 
most  delicate  and  difficult  undertaking  in  the  world— the  training  of  youth  ; 
and  that  was  how  it  happened  that  he  made  no  mistakes.    I  liken  it  to 


23 


an  inspiration  of  God,  by  which  his  whole  being,  in  that  noble  office  of 
teacher,  was  quickened,  informed,  and  guided  in  unerring  lines  in  his  great 
work.  He  used  sometimes  to  regret  that  his  ministr\'  was  cut  short,  but  I 
think  that  long  before  God  called  him,  he  understood  that  the  humbler 
sen  ice  done  for  the  Master  was  not  less  grand  or  honored  of  Him,  than  the 
more  conspicuous  one  of  preaching. 

To  the  young  he  made  the  world  look  more  beautiful.  He  added  to 
their  gifts  out  of  his  own  courage  and  confidence  and  faith.  They  will 
walk  hard  paths  with  a  more  springing  step,  and  meet  trouble  and  misfort- 
une with  braver  hearts  ;  and  all  for  him. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  adding — and  many  will  give  kindred  testimony — 
that  much  of  the  inspiration  which  has  supported  me  in  arduous  and  pro- 
longed labor  in  the  same  calling,  has  had  its  source  in  the  influence  of  his 
beloved  life." 


*  *  *  *  "I  wonder  whether  you  really  understand  how  much  I  appre- 
ciate the  good  I  received  at  the  hands  of  Dr.  Ledoux  the  year  I  was  with 
you.  I  ofttimes  look  upon  it,  not  as  the  year  in  which  I  taught,  but  as  the 
one  in  which  I  finished  my  student  life  in  a  most  peculiar  way.  I  frankly 
recognize  the  many  ways  I  am  indebted,  and  I  want  to  pay  the  humble 
tribute  of  saying  that  I  am  to-day  a  better  Christian  -far — for  the  year  and 
its  work,  from  the  peculiar  way  in  which  he  influenced  me.  I  have  a  more 
elevated  and  correct  view  of  the  ideas  which  should  control  men  in  their 
ever)-  day  life  from  the  example  he  set  each  day  in  the  earnestness  and 
sincerity  with  which  he  threw  himself  into  the  school.  One  thing  was  to 
me  marked.  I  have  often  mentioned  it  to  mother,  saying,  'I  do  not 
believe  the  Doctor  or  .Mrs.  Ledoux  could  take  more  interest  in  the  welfare 
of  these  boys  if  they  were  their  own  children.'  " 


*  *  *  *  "It  was  with  the  deepest  regret  that  I  found  it  impossible  to 
be  among  those  who,  on  Saturday,  paid  the  last  sad  tribute  of  respect  to  all 
that  was  mortal  of  Dr.  Ledoux.  This  sorrow  I  felt  all  the  more  keenly 
from  the  fact  that  through  my  association  with  him  as  his  assistant  teacher 
for  two  years,  I  had  come  to  know  him  and  to  love  him  for  the  many  noble 
qualities  which  adorned  his  life.    His  quickness  to  supply  the  temporal  as 


24 


well  as  spiritual  wants  of  those  who  stood  in  need  of  assistance,  his  Christian 
patience  and  forbearance,  his  thoughtfulness  for  others,  made  him  the  best 
of  neighbors  and  friends. 

Of  the  dear  Doctor  it  may  be  truly  said  that  he  rests  from  his  labors 
and  his  works  do  follow  him.  Those  whom,  as  pastor,  he  watched  and 
tended,  rise  up  and  call  him  blessed ;  and  all  those  young  lives  which,  with 
infinite  pains  and  loving  tenderness  he  did  so  much  to  fashion,  will  daily 
honor  his  memory."       *       *       *  * 

*  *  *  *  (I  J  i^now  that  it  must  have  been  a  great  trial  to  him  to  leave 
the  ministry,  but  God  had  other  work  for  him  to  do.  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  measure  the  influence  that  he  will  still  continue  to  exert  through 
the  lives  of  those  whose  minds  and  character  his  hand  has  done  so  much  to 
form.  The  deeds  of  a  good  man  do  indeed  live  after  him.  I,  myself,  feel 
that  I  owe  him  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  two  of  the  happiest  and  most  profit- 
able years  of  my  life. 

When  he  left  you  I  have  wondered  if  you  did  not  say  to  him  as  I  have 
heard  you  say  so  often,  'Au  revoir.'*  You  might  have  said  it  as  truly  then 
as  ever." 


And  thus,  briefly,  the  story  of  an  earnest  Hfe  is  told  by 
others.  But  none  of  them  could  lift  the  veil  from  that  inner 
home-life — too  sacred  for  tongue  or  pen.  The  tenderness  ; 
the  faith  ;  the  gentle  patience  ;  the  self-forgetfulness  ;  the 
inspiring  courage  ;  the  unselfish,  generous  love  that  never 
faltered  or  wavered  or  diminished ! 

Standing  yet  on  this  side  of  the  river,  there  is  one,  at 
least,  who  thanks  God  for  this  life,  and  who  looks  across 
with  increasing  yearning  for  the  day  of  blessed  reunion. 

K.  R.  L. 

*As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  day  before  his  death,  when  "aphasia,"  a  symptom  of  the 
disease,  had  appeared,  after  struggling  for  a  long  time  to  say  somethmg  to  his  younger 
son,  he  motioned  for  paper  and  pencil  and  wrote  slowly,  with  trembling  hands,  these 
familiar,  but  then  so  significant  words,  "Au  revoir." 


25 


Memorial  Sermon 

BY 

REV.  GEORGE  P.  NOBLE. 


A  SERVANT  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


A  sermon  in  memory  of  the  Rev.  L.  P.  Ledoux,  D.  D.,  preached  Sunday,  Oct.  4th,  1885, 

by  Rev.  Geo.  P.  Noble. 


James  i. ;  i. — A  servant  of  God,  and  of  /he  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


Pre-eminent  amoncr  the  characteristics  of  the  g-ood  and 
Godly  man,  in  memory  of  whom  we  meet  to-night,  was  that 
which  is  indicated  in  the  text.  His  story  was  told  you, 
briefly,  at  the  funeral.  It  has  been  repeated  at  greater 
length  in  our  village  paper.  It  is  right  that  I,  his  pastor, 
should  now  tell  it  to  you  again,  not  as  something  new,  but 
as  something  that  is  both  good  and  pleasant  to  hear,  and 
that  should  come  to  us  full  of  instruction  and  helpfulness, 
for  it  shows  us  how  one  who  is  "a  servant  of  Jesus  Christ" 
may  live. 

He  was  born  at  Opelousas,  La.,  June  8th,  1822,  and 
there  spent  his  early  years.  The  fair  sky  and  genial  climate 
of  his  Southern  home  were  not  more  radiant  or  protecting 
than  the  parental  love  and  the  brotherly  and  sisterly  affec- 
tion that  surrounded  him.  He  was  the  youngest  son  in  a 
wealthy  and  loving  family.  All  that  anyone  could  wish  was 
his.  In  him  centered  much  of  the  pride  and  hope  of  his 
parents'  hearts.  They  meant  him  for  the  "  law,"  and,  no 
doubt,  saw  bright  visions  of  social  and  political  preferment 
for  him,  in  which  they  took  great  delight.  What  was  there 
that  might  not  come  to  one  so  born  and  cared  for  ? 


29 


In  his  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  year  he  came  North  to 
complete  his  schooHng,  and  entered  the  Lawrence  Academy 
at  Groton,  Mass.  There  he  was  met  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
God,  and  led  to  see  Jesus,  not  only  as  his  Saviour,  but  as 
the  Saviour  of  the  world.  So  impressed  was  he  with  the 
revelation  of  the  love  of  Christ  that  he  then  received,  that 
he  dedicated  himself  to  the  Gospel  ministry,  and  at  once 
entered  upon  the  service  from  which  he  never  swerved,  and 
in  which  he  never  faltered  for  more  than  forty  years.  I  do 
not  go  too  far  when  I  say  that  it  both  cost  him  all  he  had 
and  made  him  all  he  was.  That  he  might  carry  out  his  new 
purpose,  it  became  thenceforward  necessary  that  he  should 
support  himself  through  college  and  the  seminary.  He 
assumed  the  burden  and  accomplished  his  task  with  the 
same  brave  cheerfulness  that  we  have  seen  and  known  in 
other  things.  I  know  whereof  I  speak  when  I  say  the 
burden  was  not  light  or  the  work  easy.  His  ministry  began 
at  Dobb's  Ferry,  in  this  State,  where  he  won  the  hearts  of 
the  people,  and  might  have  stayed  for  many  years  had  he  so 
chosen.  But  his  heart  was  full  of  fire  ;  full  of  grand  enthusiasm 
to  preach  to  those  in  greater  need  and  with  fewer  advantages. 
He  wanted  frontier  mission  work.  So  he  was  sent  to  a  little 
struggling  church  in  Newport,  Ky.,  then  near  the  border. 
He  found  them  worshipping  in  an  upper  room.  In  a  few 
years  he  had  them  housed,  and  lifted  to  a  place  of  strength 
and  power.  Then  he  was  ready  to  go  on.  This  time  he 
went  to  Monroe,  Mich.  Here  his  ministry  was  brief.  His 
wife  and  baby  sickened  under  the  malarial  influences  of  the 
region,  and  for  months  were  at  death's  door.  Though  the 
church  offered  to  send  them  away  for  a  whole  year's  rest,  if 
that  would  keep  him  with  them,  it  seemed  to  be  a  question 


30 


between  them  antl  the  church.  He  was  the  servant  of  God  ; 
he  beheved  God  had  sent  him  there.  And  so  he  hesitated. 
While  he  yet  debated  what  was  his  duty,  his  orders  came. 
The  Third  Presbyterian  Church  in  Richmond,  Va.,  who  had 
never  seen  his  face  or  heard  his  voice,  and  only  knew  him 
by  report  of  friends  who  dwelt  among  them,  called 
him  to  their  pastorate.  He  could  not  question  that 
this  was  the  voice  of  God  ;  nor  could  his  Western  people, 
though  they  parted  from  him  most  reluctantly.  Some  of 
the  friendships  founded  in  the  Western  field  have  continued 
to  his  death.  Part  of  the  cordial  welcome  that  I  met  from 
him  when  I  came  here,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  say,  was  due  to 
the  fact  that  my  uncle  was  one  of  the  Session  of  that  church, 
for  whom  he  had  a  life-long  love.  The  world  is  small,  and 
our  lives  are  interlaced  with  others  far  more  and  oftener 
than  we  dream. 

He  went  to  Virginia  at  a  very  trying  time,  and  to  a  hard 
and  painful  experience.  It  was  at  the  beginning  of  one  of 
the  struggles,  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  that  had  slavery 
for  their  causes.  Most  of  you  can  remember  nothing  of  it ; 
perhaps  hardly  knew  of  it  at  the  time,  for  it  was  confined 
mainly  to  that  one  Synod.  But,  boy  as  I  was,  it  made  a 
deep  impression  upon  me,  because  my  father  and  his  nearest 
friends  were  members  of  the  Synod  and  participants  in  the 
struggle.  It  resulted  in  a  schism  in  the  church.  We,  in 
Washington,  were  able  to  hold  our  Presbytery  right. 
But.  in  Richmond,  Dr.  Ledoux  stood  almost  alone.  With 
him  the  choice  was  to  break  up  his  new-made  home  ;  to 
part  from  the  people  who  had  shown  such  a  signal  confidence 
in  him,  and  to  come  North  ;  or  else,  to  remain  among  those 
to  whose  views  of  right  and  wrong  he   had  been  early 


31 


trained,  but  with  which  he  could  no  loncrer  aeree.  It  was 
the  voice  of  conscience,  to  him  ever  as  the  voice  of  God. 
His  choice  was  made.  He  came  North,  "  not  knowing- 
whither,"  and  in  His  good  providence,  God  sent  him  here. 

He  was  pastor  of  this  church  seven  years  and  a  half. 
He  found  it  with  less  than  forty  members.  He  left  it  with 
over  one  hundred.  He  found  it  strug-orlinor  for  life. 
He  left  it  with  its  strength  established  and  its  success  assured. 
In  leaving  it,  he  acted  from  necessity  and  not  from  choice, 
save  as  it  was  his  choice  always  to  do  his  Master's  will.  His 
voice  failed  him.  He  gave  it  rest,  but  renewed  effort  showed 
that  it  could  not  be  depended  on.  So,  in  the  Fall  of  1865, 
he  resigned  his  pastorate  and,  most  reluctantly,  laid  down 
his  work.  Laid  it  down,  however,  only  to  take  it  up  again 
in  another  form. 

Of  his  place  and  work  as  a  teacher,  another  is  to  speak 
to  you  to-night.  I  shall  anticipate  what  may  be  said  only 
this  far.  Dr.  Ledoux's  purpose,  in  all  his  ministr)-,  was  to 
lead  souls  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  train  them  to  efficiency  in 
the  Master's  work.  When  he  changed  from  the  church  to 
the  school-room,  there  was  no  change  in  the  aim  and  pur- 
pose of  his  life.  He  was  still  "  the  servant  of  God  and  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  The  ideal  that  he  always  held  up 
before  the  boys  committed  to  his  charge,  was  that  of  manly 
Christianity.  His  hope,  his  prayer,  his  effort  in  their  behalf, 
was  that  they  might  see  in  the  Son  of  God  the  Saviour  of 
their  souls  and  the  pattern  for  their  lives.  And  what  he 
taught,  he  li\  ed.  He  believed  God's  word  with  the  implicit 
conlidence  that  a  child  puts  in  its  father's  statements.  What 
the  Bible  said  was  true.  From  it  there  was  no  appeal.  So 
much  was  settled  in  his  creed,  beyond  all  doubt.  Quoting 


32 


to  me  the  saying  of  a  noted  theologian,  now  deceased, 
"  that  if  his  conscience  and  the  Bible  led  him  in  different 
ways,  he  should  follow  conscience,"  he  said,  "To  me,  such 
sayings  are  absurd  and  wicked,  both  because  of  the  doubt 
implied.  A  quickened  conscience,  guided  by  prayer  and 
filled  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  cannot  lead  one  contrary  to  the 
word  of  God."  And  so,  with  the  love  of  a  son  in  his  father's 
house,  and  the  deference  of  a  servant  to  a  master,  trusted 
and  revered,  he  did  his  work  and  lived  his  life. 

The  words  of  such  a  man  had  mighty  power.  Pupils, 
neighbors,  friends,  all  loved  to  hear  him  speak  ;  all  listened 
eagerly  for  what  he  had  to  say.  Many  have  been  the  words 
that  have  come  to  wife  and  sons  in  these  last  days,  ascribing 
"  the  conversion,"  "  the  love  of  Christ,"  in  some  cases  "  all 
that  is  good,"  in  the  writers,  to  the  influence  and  teaching 
of  this  good  man.  One  says  that  he  had  been  in  the  mazes 
of  doubt  and  unbelief,  but  the  remembrance  of  what  religion 
had  been  in,  and  made  of.  Dr.  Ledoux,  had  brought  him 
through  to  an  established  and  unshaken  faith.  These  are 
very  precious  words,  and  full  of  comfort  to  the  afflicted  ones. 
And  we  who  knew  him,  know  that  they  were  well-deserved. 

Dr.  Teal  told  us  of  the  loving  welcome  that  he  met  when 
he  began  his  ministry  in  this  church,  of  the  promise  of  sym- 
pathy and  help  Dr.  Ledoux  made  him,  and  how  fully  that 
promise  was  redeemed.  Let  me  add  my  testimony  to  that 
then  given,  for  I  might  use  almost  the  self-same  words. 
There  is  a  tradition  of  men  that  the  very  worst  of  all  possible 
parishioners  is  an  ex-pastor  of  the  church.  It  is  not  making 
an  invidious  distinction,  or  casting  a  slight  on  anyone  else, 
to  say  that  no  pastor  ever  had  a  more  sympathetic,  loving  and 
considerate  parishioner  than  each  of  his  successors  found  in 


33 


Dr.  Ledoux.  He  was  always  ready  to  be  counted  first  for 
self-denying  ser\-ice,  and  last  in  ever)  thing  else.  His  care, 
lest  he  should  ever  seem  to  come  between  pastor  and  people, 
was  constant;  and  as  gfreat  at  the  last  as  at  the  first.  No 
church  ever  had  a  wiser,  warmer  friend  than  he  has  been  to 
this.  While  yet  the  fullness  of  his  strength  remained,  he 
was  always  in  his  place  at  public  worship ;  and  no  one  else 
was  absent  whose  presence  his  thoughtfulness  and  help  could 
secure.  Only  a  few  days  ago  I  was  told,  by  one  of  the  parties 
concerned,  of  how,  week  after  week  for  a  long  time,  he  called 
for  and  brought  to  the  young  people's  meeting,  four  young 
girls  who,  othervvise,  would  have  been  without  escort  or 
conveyance.  And  so  through  all  his  life.  There  was  no 
good  thing  that  could  not  safely  count  upon  his  sympathy 
and  cordial  aid.  No  place  where  he  was  needed  where  he 
was  not  found,  when  health  and  strength,  and  the  work  that 
he  was  called  to  do  for  Christ  permitted.  Was  there  ever  a 
man  more  thoroughly  or  rightfully  respected  in  a  community 
than  he  was  in  this?  Was  there  ever  one  who  either 
deserved  or  received  more  of  the  esteem  and  confidence  of 
all  who  knew  him?  "A  real  good  man."  How  often  we 
have  heard  the  words,  in  this  connection,  in  these  last  few 
days,  and  from  how  many  kinds  of  men  !  The  church  is 
weaker,  the  communit)-  jioorer  for  his  loss.  We  all  feel  it 
so  to-night. 

He  was  what  God  made  him.  It  was  the  faith  he  had 
in  Jesus  Christ;  the  service  that  he  had  rendered  to  his  Lord, 
that  gave  him  the  strength,  tenderness,  purity  and  power. 
Without  his  religion  he  was  but  as  other  men.  By  the 
constraining  power  of  the  love  of  Christ  he  was  lifted  to  the 
place  he  filled,  so  that  we  now  lament  "  a  prince  and  a  great 


34 


man  fallen  in  Israel."  To  me  the  lesson  of  his  life  is  this: 
The  worth  of  Christianity  to  the  soul,  the  ennobling,  elevating 
power  of  our  faith ;  the  dignity  and  manliness  of  being 
"a  servant  of  God  and  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  We  shall 
miss  him  from  his  place  among  us,  but  shall  not  his  power 
and  influence  live  on,  while  we  follow  him  as  he  followed 
Christ  ? 


35 


Eternal  Life  in  Christ  Alone. 


SERMON  BY  REV.  DR.  LEDOUX. 


yohn  6;  68.  Then  Simon  Peter  answered  him,  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go?  Thou 
hast  the  words  of  eternal  life. 

The  question  of  the  text  is  the  strongest  form  of  an 
assertion.  In  its  real  import,  it  is  not  an  inquiry,  but  rather 
the  result  of  inquiry.  Peter  and  the  other  apostles  of 
our  Lord  had  sought  eternal  life  in  many  ways.  They 
had  tried  the  world  and  that  had  proved  a  failure.  It 
had  not  satisfied  their  cravings  after  eternal  life.  They 
had  tried  the  service  of  sin,  and  found  that  instead  of 
obtaining  life  as  a  result,  "  the  wages  of  sin  is  deaths  Some 
of  them  had  committed  themselves  to  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  and  by  them  had  been  led  astray.  They  had 
resorted  to  their  own  schemes,  and  soug-ht  to  work  out  for 
themselves  a  rig-hteousness  of  their  own,  but  to  their  bitter 
disappointment,  found  that  they  made  no  progress  in  that. 
They  had  gone  to  Moses  and  he  had  pointed  them  to 
another.  They  had  gone  to  John  the  Baptist  and  he  pointed 
them  to  One  who  was  coming  after  him — the  true  light — 
One  whose  shoe's  latchet  he  was  not  worthy  to  unloose. 
They  had  finally  gone  to  Christ  himself,  and  here  the)-  had 
at  last  found  what  they  had  in  vain  sought  elsewhere.  Vrom 
His  lips  they  at  last  heard  "the  words  of  eternal  life."  And 
now,  with  all  this  experience  gathered  from  so  failures, 
so  man)-  abortive  attempts,  how  natural  the  answer  which 
is  here  given  to  the  (juestion  of  Jesus  in  the  verse  preceding 
the  text:  "Then  said  Jesus  to  the  twelve,  wh.i,  ve  also 


38 


CO  AWAY?    Then  Simon  Peter  answered  Him,  Lord,  to 

WHOM  SHALL  WE    (iO?     ThoU    HAST  THE  WORDS   OF  EtERNAL 

Like." 

With  the  same  tentative  spirit  let  us,  my  friends,  now 
spend  a  few  moments  in  search  of  peace,  of  salvation  ;  let 
us,  if  possible,  find  eternal  life.  In  pursuit  of  this  salvation 
I  find  myself  ignorant,  bewildered,  unhappy.  I  am  conscious 
of  a  lack  of  real  comfort  and  true  peace  in  all  my  joys. 
I  long  for  a  satisfaction  which  I  have  never  yet  found  in 
living  to  eat,  to  drink  and  to  enjoy  this  world.  I  find  many 
teachers  ready  to  aid  me  in  my  search  ;  to  direct  me  in  my 
inquiry,  I  go  to  one,  for  instance,  who  willingly  undertakes 
to  direct  me,  and  he  sends  me 

i._TO  NATURE  AND  HER  PRECEPTS.  He  tells 
me  that  if  I  attentively  study  her  laws  and  conform  to  them, 
I  shall  not  fail  to  find  the  bliss  for  which  I  sigh.  Anxious 
to  find  this  peace,  I  go  to  Nature  as  directed,  and  study  her 
precepts  and  listen  to  her  voice  of  instruction.  I  enter  her 
courts  ;  I  ascend  her  lofty  mountains,  and  there,  possessed 
with  an  idea  of  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  Nature's  God, 
I  am  in  no  way  benefitted.  I  have  only,  so  to  speak, 
approached  nearer  to  an  infinite  God,  whose  laws  I  have 
broken,  whose  authority  I  have  rejected.  I  descend  without 
peace.  I  enter  Nature's  laboratory  below,  and  there  I  behold 
her  processes.  There  is  the  crystal  receiving  its  shape,  its 
angles  and  polish — the  diamond  its  beauty  and  hardness. 
I  leave  this,  awe-struck,  and  impressed  with  a  feeling  that 
God  is  here — this  is  holy  ground,  and  /  am  a  sinner.  The 
power,  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  as  here  seen,  are 
indeed  calculated  to  lead  me  to  repentance,  and  yet  /  have 
no  penitent  feelings.    I  ramble  through  the  valleys  and  over 


39 


the  fields.  I  find  the  flowers  gorgeously  arrayed,  painted 
in  every  variety  of  color  and  shade.  Their  fragrance  floats 
in  the  air  and  meets  me.  All  teach  me  the  eternal  power 
and  Godhead  of  the  Deity.  All  Nature  teaches  me  that  I 
am  a  fallen  being  in  the  midst  of  these  displays  of  grandeur, 
wisdom  and  goodness.  And  here  I  find  my  disease  render- 
ed worse  rather  than  better.  /  am  a  sinner.  As  such,  1 
ask  Nature  to  save  me — to  comfort  me  in  my  deep  agitation. 
I  press  Nature  to  tell  me  what  to  do  with  a  long  catalogue 
of  sins  which  I  produce  before  her.  I  urge  her  to  tell  me 
how  these  can  be  blotted  out.  She  in  vain  points  me  -  to 
her  oceans,  lakes  and  rivers  full  of  water.  All  the  cleansing 
properties  of  all  the  water  of  the  world  cannot  make  my 
heart  clean  ;  these  sins  are  of  so  deep  a  dye  that  nothing 
within  the  power  or  possession  of  Nature  can  bleach  them. 

Finding  myself  disappointed  here,  I  turn  with  sadness 
to  another  teacher.  Seating  myself  at  his  feet,  I  ask  him  in 
tears  what  I  must  do  to  be  saved.  This  one,  after  hearing  my 
statements,  bids  me 

2.  TURN  FROM  NATURE  WITHOUT  TO  NATURE 
WITHIN  ME.  He  tells  me  that  man's  moral  nature  is  not 
so  deranged,  not  so  degraded,  not  so  fallen  as  to  be  past 
self-recovery.  He  tells  me  that  if  I  look  within  I  shall  find 
there  some  spark  of  the  original  fire  that  burned  upon  the 
altar  of  man's  heart,  though  it  be  in  a  smothered  condition. 
His  original  righteousness  is  not  clean  gone  forever.  The 
moral  image  of  God  is  not  entirel)-  blotted  out  in  him.  He 
appeals  to  the  finer  sentiments  of  our  nature.  He  bids  me 
watch  closely  and  detect  my  abhorrence  of  the  grosser  and 
more  debasing  evils  into  which  the  less  refined  in  society 
plunge.     He  asks  me  if  I  am  not  shocked  at  such  exhibitions 


40 


of  depravity,  if  I  do  not  instinctively  shrink  from  them.  Hr' 
thus  flatters  me  and  tells  me  that  I  am  unnecessarily  alarmed 
at  my  sins.  They  are  only  those  errors  and  delinquencies 
which  belong  to  all  men  in  this  world  of  imperfections.  He 
tells  me  that  I  have  self-love  and  that  I  will  surely,  on  the 
whole,  do  what  my  interest  demands.  In  short,  he  tells  me 
to  look  within  me  to  find  out  what  I  must  do  to  be  saved. 

For  a  moment  I  find  myself  somewhat  relieved  by  this 
flattery.  But  it  is  only  for  a  moment.  I  ask  myse'f 
what  if  it  turn  out  that  in  being  honest  I  am  secretly  following 
a  maxim  of  this  selfish  world,  viz.:  that  "  Honesty  is  the  best 
policy!'  I  ask  myself,  if  naturally  disposed  to  do  right,  why 
did  that  mother,  from  my  earliest  infancy,  watch  over  my 
morals  with  such  anxiety  and  even  with  tears  ?  Why  was 
there  so  much  of  law  in  that  household  ?  Why  such  strict- 
ness in  demanding  obedience  ?  Why  such  hard  thoughts  in 
boyhood  when  my  wish  was  denied,  when  my  purpose  was 
crossed  ?  May  we  not  be  indebted  to  the  moulding  influence 
and  discipline  of  parents  and  teachers  for  that  moral  con- 
duct, that  exalted  idea  of  honesty  and  all  those  upright  views 
of  life  which  render  men  pleasant,  useful  and  respected  mem- 
bers of  societ}^? 

I  find,  then,  that  it  turns  out  that  it  is  not  on  account  of,  but 
in  spite  of,  my  original  disposition,  that  I  am  what  I  am.  Nor 
dare  I  say  what  the  amount  of  influence  •  pious  people  and 
the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  have  upon  me  to  keep  from 
committing  those  grosser  deeds  of  inquity  from  which  I  now 
shrink.  Besides  all  this,  I  feel  still  that  I  am  a  sinner.  I 
am  "weighed  in  the  balances"  and  am  "found  wanting."  I 
am  once  more  disappointed.  I  find  the  class  of  feelings  to 
which  I  have  been  directed  to  be  insufficient  to  oroide  me 


41 


from  one  victor)-  of  sin  over  another.  It  is  unsafe  to  trust 
to  them.  I  turn,  then,  from  m)'self  and  this  guide,  and 
resolve  to  try  again,  and  thus  I  repair  to  another  teacher. 

3.  — This  one,  wholly  mistaking  my  case,  bids  me  "  GOV- 
ERN MYSELF  BY  THE  SAYINGS  OF  WISE  MEN," 
to  conform  to  the  prudential  rules  of  those  men  of  broad 
common  sense  and  experience  who  have  left  their  thoughts 
to  the  world,  but  especially  to  the  youth  of  the  world.  "  Fol- 
low these  maxims,"  says  this  one,  "govern  yourself  by  these 
precepts  and  you  will  find  no  occasion  for  uneasiness. 
Prosperity  will  attend  you  here,  and  beyond  '  the  debt  ot 
nature'  which  you  will  pay  at  death,  nothing  will  be  demand- 
ed of  you  in  the  future."  But  here  again  I  am  doomed  to 
disappointment.  I  am  a  sinner  and  looking  for  eternal  life. 
This  teacher,  instead  of  probing  my  wounds,  has  sought  to 
heal  them  from  without,  and  this  effort  onl)-  tends  to  increase 
the  inflammation  within.  These  maxims,  when  followed,  will 
indeed  exert  a  happ)-  influence  on  the  character.  The  max- 
ims of  a  Franklin,  when  followed,  will  indeed  point  out  how 
to  secure  and  keep  health;  how  to  live  with  econoni),  but 
this  is  not  to  the  point.  The  issue  is  not  met.  The  maxims, 
in  conformity  to  which  I  shall  appear  well  in  societ)-,  secure 
a  robust  body,  keep  a  sound  mind  and  obtain  wealth,  are  not 
"the  words  of  eternal  life"  to  which  the  Apostle  refers  in  the 
text.  The  aphorisms  of  men,  however  wise  and  useful  to 
guide  us  in  the  present  life,  will  not  give  the  seeker  after 
"eternal  life"  true  peace.  This  is,  therefore,  a  cJicat.  plaus- 
ible indeed,  but,  nevertheless,  a  r//^^//.  Alas!  And  must  I 
be  disappointed  cvcrytoherc?  Is  there  no  hope  for  me? 
"Yes,"  cries  a  fourth  teacher, 

4.  _-LOOK  TO  THE  MAJESTY  OF  YOUR  OWN 


42 


REASON.  Pin  your  faith  to  no  man's  sleeve,  follow  your  own 
di\'ine  reason  and  banish  your  fears  in  regard  to  the  future. 
You  have  been  deceived;  like  many  other  unfortunate  ones, 
your  education  has  been  conducted  under  the  pressure  of  a 
fanaticism  which  ever  imagines  itself  just  on  the  verge  of  an 
endless  perdition — a  fanaticism  which  gluts  itself  on  the 
awful  idea  of  a  God  who  is  to  judge  this  world  at  some  appoint- 
ed day  in  the  unknown,  untried  future.  An  education  con- 
ducted under  the  authority  of  an  ancient  Book,  containing  the 
morbid  philosophy,  the  poetic  effusions  and  the  history  of 
men  of  a  dark  and  barbarous  past  age ;  dreamers  who,  like 
some  in  every  age  of  the  world,  supposed  themselves  under 
the  inspiration  and  guidance  of  a  God." 

This  teacher,  in  short,  assures  me  that  the  sooner  I  shall 
discard  these  silly  notions,  the  better  it  will  be  for  me — the 
sooner  will  I  obtain  peace.  To  convince  me  of  the  wisdom 
of  this  advice,  to  encourage  me  to  follow  the  majesty  of 
reason  from  the  example  of  others,  he  places  in  my  hand  a 
manual  containing  the  names  of  all  great  infidels,  their  bold 
and  independent  course  of  reasoning  and  the  results  to 
which  they  have  arrived  without  the  aid  of  Christianity  or 
Christianity's  Bible. 

But  here,  in  the  outset,  we  are  startled  by  the  great 
diversity  of  opinions  which  they  hold,  while  we  are  often  very 
much  puzzled  to  understand  what  they  really  mean. 

Let  us  turn,  first,  to  the  history  of  English  infidelity,  and 
select  some  points.  Here  we  find,  for  example,  the  dis- 
tinguished Hobbes  proving  to  us  that  there  is  no  God ; 
contending  that  whatever  man  desires,  he  has  a  right  to 
appropriate  to  himself.  Thus,  with  one  stroke,  he  not  only 
sweeps  away  Christianity,  but  he  also  sweeps  away  all  rights 


43 


among  men,  and  his  reasonings  carried  out,  would  bring  into 
one  general  mass  of  ruin  the  whole  framework  of  society. 

Following  him  comes  another  name  of  some  note,  but 
one  who,  by  no  means,  agrees  with  Hobbes  in  regard  to  the 
existence  of  a  Deity.  Shaftesbury  teaches,  indeed,  that  there 
is  a  God,  but  discards  the  idea  of  Christianity  as  a  divine 
remedial  system.  Upon  the  fundamental  idea  of  a  God, 
these  two  infidels  take  diametrically  different  sides. 

Notice,  next,  the  great  champion  Hume,  with  his  subtle 
metaphysics.  Although  teaching  the  existence  of  a  God,  he 
also  teaches  that  God  is  an  infinite  vegetation  ! 

We  turn  to  France  and  there  we  find  two  of  her  most 
distinguished  infidels  also  disputing  among  themselves. 
Here  is  Voltaire,  on  the  one  hand,  expressing  himself  doubt- 
ful in  regard  to  the  existence  of  a  Deity;  denying  positively 
the  existence  of  the  soul  after  death;  sneering  at  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Bible,  as  preposterous  and  childish, — on  the 
other  hand,  Rousseau,  whilst  denying  the  divine  origin  of 
the  Scriptures,  maintains  that  they  contain  an  elevation  of 
thought  and  a  purity  which  can  be  found  in  no  other  book. 
Contrary  to  Voltaire,  he  believes  in  a  God  and  a  Providence. 

Shall  we  next  turn  to  Germany?  Here  we  find  ourselves 
entering  an  inextricable  labyrinth.  Guided  by  his  reason, 
one  teaches  that  God  is  ever)  thing  we  see,  touch,  eat  and 
drink  !  Another  great  philosopher  starts  with  the  astound- 
ing proposition  as  the  basis  of  his  system  of  philosophy  that 
"/  is  /.''"    ''Everything  is  lohat  it  is,  it  is  eitJicr  1  or  not  /." 

Another  lays  down  the  proposition  that  ''entity  is  nothing; 
and  that  the  unity  of  entity  and  )iothing  constitutes  existence!' 

Another,  after  a  long  and  tedious  process  of  reasoning, 
arrives  at  the  conclusion  that  "something  and  nothing  are 


44 


the  same."  All  these  discard  the  Scriptures,  and  come  to 
these  conclusions  by  the  light  of  reason.  You  can  judge 
now  of  my  perplexity  to  decide  on  the  course  I  am  to  pur- 
sue. Whom  shall  I  follow  of  these  teachers?  This  is  indeed 
the  question  to  decide,  and  decide  it  I  cannot  without  hav- 
ing some  doubt  that  I  may  be  wrong  in  doing  so.  Besides 
all  this,  while  1  am  conscious  of  being  a  sinner,  I  am  also 
looking  to  a  death-bed  upon  which  I  must  very  soon  be  laid, 
and  as  I  read  of  the  closing  lives  of  very  many  of  the  infidels 
who  have  lived  and  died,  I  am  most  painfully  impressed  with 
the  fact  that  infidelity  seems  to  be  illy  adapted  to  give  her 
disciples  true  and  sustaining  peace  in  the  hour  of  death.  If 
their  remorse  of  conscience,  their  shrieks  of  despair,  their 
curses  and  imprecations,  are  to  be  taken  as  the  legitimate 
preparation  for  death  which  infidelity  gives  men,  I  certainly 
shrink  from  becominor  one  of  its  votaries.  Here  is  not  the 
boon  which  I  seek.  Where  then  is  it  ?  Ah  !  I  find  a  fifth 
teacher 

5.  WHO  SENDS  ME  TO  GOD'S  HOLY  BOOK. 
But  what  do  I  find  here  ?  I  find  a  law  that  reproaches  me 
and  heaps  curses  upon  me.  It  arrays  my  sins  before  me 
and  makes  them  appear  exceeding  sinful.  I  ask  for  mercy 
at  its  hands;  it  answers  that  ''the  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall 
die!''  It  declares  that  God  is  just,  and  will  by  no  means 
clear  the  guilty.  It  drowns  my  hopeless  and  piteous  cries 
by  peals  of  thunder.  When  I  approach  the  awful  mount,  it 
sends  forth  its  black,  curling  smoke,  and  I  quake  and  stand 
back.  My  troubles  increase,  my  prospects  become  more 
gloomy  than  ever  before.  I  find  myself  tossed  upon  a  sea  of 
agitation  without  a  pilot — without  a  star.  O,  the  horrors  of 
such  a  condition !    All  teachers  to  whom  I  repaired  have 


45 


misdirected  me,  and  now  this  last  teacher,  the  Law  of  God, 
curses  me!  Ah,  but  thanks  be  to  God.  this  last  teacher, 
after  all,  is  "the  school-master  that  leads  me  to  Christ." 
Whilst  thus  riding  on  the  raging  sea,  almost  driven  to  dis- 
traction, a  star  arises  to  guide  me  to  the  port  of  peace,  that 
star  is  the  Star  of  Bethlehem.  W  ith  irrepressible  joy  I 
exclaim,  "I  have  at  last  found  true  peace!"  All  I  want 
I  find  in  this  blessed  Saviour.  In  Him  I  am  complete.  He 
is  to  me  wisdom,  and  rigJitesiisness,  and  saiictificatio7i.  and 
redemption''  Let  the  Law  now  say,  "thou  art  a  sinner  and 
shalt  pa\'  th)-  debt  or  die."    I  can  say,  "This  is  a  faithful 

SAVING  AND  WORTHV  OF  ALL  ACCEPTATION,  THAT  ChRIST  JeSUS 
CAME   INTO  THE  WORLD  TO  SAVE  SINNERS."      "  He  waS  bruiscd 

for  my  iniquities,  wounded  for  my  transgressions,  and  with 
His  stripes  I  am  healed."  Do  I  feel  that  I  need  repentance? 

"  He  is  EXALTED  AS  A  FRIEND  AND  A  SaVIOURTO  GIVE  REPENT- 

ANtE."  Does  the  question  turn  upon  my  righteousness? 
"Christ  is  the  end  of  the  Law  for  righteousness  to  ez'eryone  that 
belicvethy  Do  I  want  an  assurance  that  I  shall  never  be 
disappointed — never  be  moved  if  I  trust  him?  1  obtain  that 
assurance  in  the  precious  promise  that  I  shall  be  "kept 

TIIRr)U(;H    FAITH    unto   THE    DAV    OF   CO>n'LETE  REDEMFriON." 

In  Him  I  find  a  kind  and  constant  and  true  s)  mpathizer  in 
all  my  troubles  and  bereavements.  In  Him  I  see  a  light 
that  enlightens  the  dark  and  gloomy  tomb;  for  He  who  is 
"the  resurrection  and  the  life  hath  brous^ht  life  and  immor- 
tality  to  light."  He  has  indeed  'UJie  zoords  of  eternal  life." 
In  Him  all  doubts  are  removed,  all  difficulties  settled,  all 
darkness  dispelled,  all  fear  taken  away,  all  despair  exchanged 
for  hope,  all  trials  rendered  tolerable,  all  burdens  rendered 
light,  all  guilt  pardoned,  all  wounds  healed,  all  disease  cured. 


46 


all  uncleanness  washed  away,  all  future  dangers  averted,  all 
sighs  repressed,  all  groans  hushed,  all  tears  dried,  all  joys 
sweetened ! 

O  precious  Saviour!  Thou  art  indeed  our  light,  our  hope, 
our  salvation,  our  joy.  Thou  alone  hast  the  words  of  eternal 
life  !  "  Be  Thou  our  all,  our  tJicmc,  our  inspiration  and  our 
croion,  our  strength  in  age,  our  rise  in  loiu  estate,  our  soul's 
ambition,  pleasure,  luealth,  our  ivorld,  o?ir  light  in  darkness 
and  our  life  in  death." 

My  dear  unconverted  friends,  hozv  long  ivill  you  strive 
after  true  peace  where  you  never  can  find  it  ?  Ought  not 
ten,  twenty,  or  it  may  be  forty  years  of  this  fruitless  experi- 
menting, to  suffice  ?  Why  not  go  directly  to  Christ  for 
words  of  eternal  life  ?  Never  will  you  find  it  short  of  Him. 
You  will  be  restless  until  you  get  upon  this  rock. 

Christians  I  what  think  ye  of  Christ  this  morning?  May 
I  not  safely  call  some  oiyoiL  back  to  H  im  ?  Are  there  none  here 
who  have  in  some  degree  ceased  to  realize  that  Christ  alone 
has  "the  words  of  eternal  life?"  Are  not  many  of  you, 
before  me,  roaming  after  the  joys  which  you  are  sensible  of 
needing?  Return  then  to  your  Jesus  at  once.  Stay  not  on 
account  of  sin — because  burdened  with  sorrow.  He  Him- 
self says  this  morning:  "  Come  unto  Me  all  ye  that  labor 
AND  are  heavy  LADEN,  AND  I  WILL  GIVE  YOU  REST."  What- 
ever be  your  trials,  your  difficulties,  your  doubts,  your  fears, 
come  to  Jesus  and  you  will  find  Him  as  ready  as  ever  to  bless 
and  comfort  you.  He  is  ever  the  same  wise,  good  and 
sympathizing  Jesus. 


47 


"  When  our  purest  delights  are  nipt  in  the  blossom  ; 

^\'hen  those  we  love  best  are  laid  low, 
^\"hen  grief  plants  in  secret  her  thorn  in  the  bosom, 

Deserted  '  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  ' 

"  When  error  bewilders,  and  our  path  becomes  dreary. 

And  tears  of  despondency  flow  ; 
When  the  whole  head  is  sick,  and  the  whole  heart  is  weary, 

Despairing  '  to  whom  shall  we  go  ? ' 

"  When  the  sad,  thirsty  spirit  turns  from  the  springs 

Of  enchantment  this  life  can  bestow, 
And  sighs  for  another,  and  flutters  its  wings, 

"Impatient,  '  to  whom  shall  we  go?' 

"  O  blest  be  the  light  which  has  parted  the  clouds, 

A  path  to  the  pilgrim  to  show, 
That  pierces  the  veil  which  the  future  enshrouds, 

And  show  us,  to  whom  we  may  go.  " 


48 


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